Toxic (or: Riza Hawkeye struggles with herself)
by arthij
Summary: Riza Hawkeye is fifteen years old when she first considers hurting herself.


Riza Hawkeye is fifteen years old when she first considers hurting herself.

Her back aches with the new outline of a crimson inscription. She can still feel the needle that had continuously impaled itself in her and smothering her face in a downy pillow and remembering the way her father's hands shook as he desecrated her body with his research. She knows it wasn't guilt that caused the tremors in her father's hands but the anxiety of botching the transcription. She feels rage build up in the back of her throat and she wants to fucking _scream_ because, despite the disrespect that her father has shown her and despite the abuse and the neglect, she wants him to love her.

Riza doubts he is even capable of acknowledging her beyond simple commands or requests. The only time he had ever shown concern for her, the only time he had ever seemed to care was when she was 13 and had cut her hand open, accidentally, when peeling vegetables for dinner. She had jolted in surprise and stumbled back into a pot, creating a clangor of metal utensils. Her father had rushed into the room, eyes more awake than she had ever seen them, and helped her care for her wounds.

His touch had been gentle, whispering words of comfort to her.

 _It'll be okay Riza._

 _Don't worry my child._

 _It's just a cut._

 _Be still sweetheart._

Alone in her room, her back throbbing with pain, Riza wonders what she'll have to do to incite such a response once more. She doubts cutting herself and dropping pans would rouse him this time. She would need to do something more drastic.

 _BAM_

Riza wheels around, startled, and realizes that the wind outside had caused her room's window to slam open. She pauses, watching the hinged window swing. Slowly, she gets off her bed and steps up to the window. The Hawkeye Estate was slowly degrading into squalor, but it was still large and she was on the second story of the house. Falling from this height would not kill her, but it would hurt.

 _Good_ , she thinks, _if I hurt I'll scream. He'll hear those screams. Father will hear._

She opens the window completely, stares down onto at the ground far below. Her heart beats fast but she knows this will work. She needs her father to know how much she hurts, she needs him to care and _fuck_ she just wants him to-

"Ms. Hawkeye?"

Riza startles so badly that she almost falls, but Mr. Mustang's hand grabs her wrist before she tips down.

"What the hell are you _doing?_ " Mr. Mustang's eyebrows are scrunched with worry and his hand is still tightly clenched on her wrist. "Ms. Hawkeye you could have fallen!"

"Mr. Mustang, ow." Riza pointedly stares at his offending hand.

Mr. Mustang completely blanches and releases her wrist like it burned him. "Oh my God- I'm- Ms. Hawkeye I'm so sorry. I was just –startled? That's not a good enough excuse um, I just. Oh my God, are you okay? Does your wrist hurt? I thought you were going to fall out of the window!"

"Mr. Mustang, I'm okay. You didn't hurt me, I'm fine." She smiles tightly and glances at the floor.

"Please, it's Roy." He smiles in an obnoxiously charming way and, suddenly, she feels warmth creep up her neck instead of the constricting grief she had previously experienced. "Now, really Ms. Hawkeye, what in Amestris' name were you trying to see outside the window? Must 'a been really interesting for you to crane your head that far." He laughs and the heat on her neck burns.

She raises her head to meet him eye to eye, squints at him. "Why did you burst into my room? Did you even knock?"

His charming smile falters into a sheepish cringe. "I did knock! You just didn't respond, so I- I just wanted to ask when dinner was and –"

Riza snorts. It was quite uncanny, his timing. "Okay, Mr. Mustang. In the future, please refrain from such callous actions when you're hungry."

"Callous?! I saved you! You would definitely have fallen!" His face was growing red with indignation. She found it endearing, somehow.

"Go downstairs. I'll start dinner in ten minutes." She realizes her voice is probably more dismissive than she means for it to be and she feels regret when Mr. Mustang's comical indignation fades into a rueful smile.

"Ah- Thanks, Ms. Hawkeye." He turns around resolutely and starts to head for the door and Riza is suddenly overcome by the urge to stop him.

"R-Roy!" She chokes on his name at first, surprised at herself.

He spins back around. Looks at her questioningly.

"Thank you! For saving me," she sputters. "Even if you hurt my wrist!" She tries to smile broadly at him, but she worries the gesture is still a little meek.

Roy seems to turn a little red. He looks away from her and scratches his neck. "No problem, Ms. Hawkeye," he smiles lightly before turning back around and hurrying out of the room.

She stares after him for a second, then looks back at the open window. Roy's abrupt presence definitely distracted her from her dangerous decision.

Looking back, the decision to jump out of her window didn't feel as appealing as it had just minutes ago. Had her dismay really make her consider such a drastic measure?

 _How could I have been so foolish?_

She makes her way down the stairs, towards the kitchen. Her father's study is ajar and, looking in, she can see sofa she had laid upon, topless. She can see the drawer that holds the needle and ink that had settled into her skin. She can see the pillow she had bitten into when trying not to cry out as her father marred her skin. She can see her father, looking dead to the world, pouring over a transcript.

"Father, do you want me to bring you dinner?"

He did not reply. She closes her eyes and pinches her arm to abate the angry frustration boiling inside of her. She would just bring him dinner later, when she and Mr. Mustang had finished eating. He was not likely to realize the tardiness of the meal.

She closes the door and continues to the kitchen.

"Ms. Hawkeye, I took care of this for you!"

Mr. Mustang hands her a bowls of freshly skinned and boiled potatoes, seeming very pleased with himself and hopeful for praise.

"You- I mean- this is very considerate of you, Mr. Mustang."

He laughs and turns pink. "I thought you were finally calling me Roy! It was no problem. I felt bad about disturbing you just because I was hungry."

Riza smiles fondly, "Well, that _was_ quite rude. I, however, think a bushel of flawlessly peeled potatoes are an impeccable penance. You're lucky I'm so forgiving, others might find an offense like yours equivalent to a punishment more severe than peeling some potatoes."

Roy chuckles. "Well, as an alchemist, I'm quite the expert with equivalence. You'll be pleased to know that I have judged this exchange to be entirely equal," he finished with a genuine smile.

"Thanks, I would hate to be conned out of more of your delightful service."

Riza takes the potatoes from him and places them on the table, pouring them into a larger bowl.

"I think today is a mashed potato kind of day, don't you Mr. Mustang?" She asks, wielding a spoon to begin the task of smashing the vegetables.

"I have never had a stronger feeling about potatoes and days, Ms. Hawkeye."

She smiles. "If you're so adamant about me calling your Roy, you should call me Riza. On principle."

Roy snorts, "No way! Your father would skin me alive if he heard me!"

"Hardly. Mr. Mustang, my father would never take note of what you call me. I doubt my father would even notice if I _had_ fallen out of that window."

"Come on Ms. Hawkeye, that can't be true."

Riza shrugs. "Maybe, maybe not. Now shush for a second, I'm trying to make _you_ dinner."

AN/ the next chapter will also have mustang in it again, then rebecca. also I don't actually think riza is being foolish or weak in her struggles with mental health. As someone who has struggled with such thoughts myself I think her issues are important and make her character more complex and strong willed. but after almost every suicidal event she has in the manga, she usually curses herself for being weak/foolish. just tryna stay consistent


End file.
